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My Little Pony
You take the tunnel upwards towards the light. DHQ Throne Room There are no other chairs in this huge room but the huge throne. Banners of ancient Decepticon warriors hang from the side walls, and a large, ornate metallic Decepticon symbol is set into the black wall behind the throne. The symbol is the exact same metallic shade as Galvatron's cannon. There's a strong resemblance to the Hall of Warriors on Cybertron, and deliberately so since while in exile here, they didn't have access to their homeworld. Contents: Cyclonus Obvious exits: South leads to DHQ Central Hallway. Cyclonus is currently occupying Galvatron's throne for him. His arms are crossed and there is a datapad in front of him. He seems to be plotting something or other though it is hard to say exactly what unless one has Soundwave's capacity for mind reading. Catechism comes up from a tunnel underneath the throne room via a trapdoor in the middle of the room. There is a headlamp clamped around her cone, and she's dirty, dingy, and looks as if she was attacked by a spider at some point. She exclaims, "So this is where that tunnel exits!" Then, it occurs to her that she is not alone. Catechism salutes and stammers, "Sir!" There is a thump, echoing in the empty room as the data pad is dropped when the trapdoor opens. Catechism will find herself staring into Cyclonus' oxidizing laser for a few seconds until it is lifted out of alignment and dissapears into subspace. "Spellunking?" He inquires. "I had not realized that my inquisitor was quite so inquisitive." Though the words are vaugely funny, there is a total lack of humor in his voice and it is clear they were not meant that way. "Did you find anything of use? Besides the obvious? Dirt." That is a barrel that Catechism has never particularly wanted to stare down. Death by rust is a horrible way to go. Cyclonus is a paranoid bugger, isn't he? But then, he would be. She rubs the back of her cone, detaches the headlamp, and turns it over in her hands. She explains, "Sir, there is an extensive network of tunnels under the Charr surface. I knew about a few of them when I took folks out leech-hunting, but it's... mind-boggling. If the Autobots ever /wanted/ to make a push here, they could come up right... well, into the throne room." Cyclonus is a paranoid bugger. It's not like someone just tried to assassinate him or anything. Fortunatly, the weapon is put away and she no longer has to contemplate evil rust to death. "Are they related to the ruins that were found on the surface?" He queries of her. "Furthermore, did you tell anyone that you were down there or did you go alone?" Catechism explains, "Some of the tunnels are related to the ruins, though not all of them and I was alone, this time, sir. A few months back, I went into a different set of tunnels to go leech-hunting with the troops, but I don't /think/ they hook up with these ones, sir, though it's hard to tell." She rubs the side of her cone, pondering. "Sorry if I startled you, sir." Astrotrain says, "Argh!" Cyclonus shakes his head. "You need not apologize. I was more musing over the fact that someone could have followed you and put a knife in your back without anyone ever knowing. Part of your role is to communicate to protect yourself as well. You have, afterall, a giant 'jump me' etched into your armor. Make no illusions as to that fact." Astrotrain says, "That's -it-! I've had it!" Cyclonus says, "Had what, Wing Leader Astrotrain? The biscuit? A headache? Victory?" Astrotrain says, "I'm frackin -sick- of disgusting Terrocon freaks and tapes and...slagg knows what other little thieven mechs goin through my stuff and poaching my ener-booze!" Astrotrain says, "I'm moving my quarters somewhere those little freaks can't get at em!" Hun-Grrr says, "No touch your damn energon booze." Hun-Grrr says, ". . . it swill anyway!" Astrotrain says, "Yeah well, blot's been trying to get his face in my booze!" Hun-Grrr says, "Hyrr . . . really?" Astrotrain mutters about Terrorcons, Predacons and leashes. Hun-Grrr says, "No see Blot in many days. If him Astrotrain find Blot, punch in face and drag back okay?" Astrotrain says, "Ooooh no." Astrotrain says, "I'm not touching -that- disgusting mechafreak." Hun-Grrr says, "Maybe him like to give you hugs." Hun-Grrr says, "That standard threat for people who annoy Terrorcons. Generally work. Him Ransack actually get hug." Hun-Grrr says, "Either way -- him Astrotrain /shoot/ blot in direction of Terrorcons then." Compile says, "I have not taken anything of yours A-Train." Astrotrain says, "So you say!" Catechism considers Cyclonus's suggestion that she could have been knifed in the back, and she shrugs, admits, "I /was/ wondering what I did to torque you off, that you'd give me this role, sir. I do have a huge target painted on me." She turns around before facing him again. "Don't get me wrong, sir. I'll give it my all. The Empire deserves no less. However, letting people know I'm going on a tunnel-crawl just gives them that much more chance to follow me, and there... isn't anyone I trust to go with me." She looks a bit pained. Astrotrain says, "I bet you -all- stole some of my booze didn't you?" Astrotrain can actually be HEARD glaring suspiciously. Lord Commander Cyclonus says, "I stole it. Would you care to make something of it, Unit Astrotrain?" Compile says, "No, I make my own booze." Astrotrain says, "But I haven't made anything of it yet...that's the problem." Lord Commander Cyclonus says, "And very good booze at that." Compile can be heard beaming Cyclonus scratches his chin faintly while giving Catechism a serious look. "Not a thing. If anything, you were the best individual for the task. Unfortunatly, Inquisitor, sometimes the safety of the Empire requires risks from it's servants. I am hoping that not only are you capable of rooting out some of our traitorious element, but that someone makes an assassination attempt on -your- life and that you will survive. Which is why it is imperative that you inform me -- not others of at least your basic movements. So that I may deal with this element of our society as well." He leans back in his chair as he nods a short bit to her. "Such is the price of rank here. Though, there are many freedoms that you now have access to that you did not before." Catechism wonders if Cyclonus is serious that he stole Astrotrain's booze. Because if he is, she's really, really not sure what to make of that. Catechism is not entirely sure that she wants Cyclonus to know where she is at all times, but she assures, "I'll keep you informed as best I can, sir. Speaking of that, sir, did Monitor tell you that Thrust was lying about Baffles?" Yes, the freedom to have everyone trying to knife her. Hooray! Cyclonus gestures with his left hand. "Baffles is dead." He says in a flat monotone. "I would have imagined that he was lying. Although . . " His hands part to gesture again. "One with an intellect as limited as Thrust's own may very well have Baffles living on in his own imagination and delusions. I thought the entire thing was a rather pathetic endevour to curry favor with Ramjet." Catechism agrees, "I can confirm that, sir. Monitor intercepted a communication between Thrust and Ramjet wherein Thrust said that he was lying to you to prove himself to Ramjet. Speaking of, I have nothing hard to go on, but I would strongly suspect that Ramjet was behind the attempt on your life, sir. I have no hard evidence, but he would have much to gain, and between his desire to exorcise your ghost, his quickness to hold your funeral, his readiness to throw blame, and his general shift behaviour yesterday, if he didn't try to kill you, he at least did /something/ wrong." But going after Ramjet puts her in a fix, because Ramjet knows some of what she's done. Cyclonus nods his head in understanding and agreement. "Of course Ramjet did it." He says as he rises from his chair, clasping his hands behind the small of his back. "I knew Ramjet did it from the moment that you informed me he was attempting to conduct an exorcism. On the minute chance he was not responsible he knows full well who did." He lets that sink in for a moment or two. "Air Commander Ramjet is . . a unique individual. I assume you are familliar with Starscream? I equate the two of them on a similar level. Both are trecharous, often shot, often punished -- but very good at what they did and so it is benificial to the Empire to leave them in that position albiet on a short leash. Commander Shockwave is another such example." Cyclonus adds . . "Did Monitor, by chance, intercept a reply?" Catechism mumbles, "Can't say I was /familiar/ with Starscream, sir, but I heard about his legend. And how he ended up." She crosses her arms, hugging herself. Starscream made it dangerous to be a Seeker. She admits, "Yeah. I thought you'd probably figure that out, sir. Monitor? If he did, he didn't tell me. I can ask him next time I run into him." Cyclonus watches Catechism hug herself. Though he does not comment on the gesture itself. "You should ask him. Ramjet is one to keep an eye on, even in his effectiveness. If he was willing to assassinate me -- I question how loyal he is to Mighty Galvatron." He then falls silent, and looks at Catechism thoughtfully. "Either way. Cease worrying. You will do admirably." Catechism lets her arms drop to her sides, and she points out, just a hint of amusement in her optics, just a tiny smile on her face, "A dose of paranoia's going to be healthy in this job, sir. That aside, though, I've been looking over the lists of our AWOL, seemed a placed to start, and well, some of them end up dead." She static-coughs. "If they don't have a will on file, their possessions default to Galvatron and therefore the Empire." She pauses before continuing, "So far, Galvatron can legally claim a miniature pony ranch, two bars, and a military-grade autoclave, and I've barely started o the list." Cyclonus considers this. "Transfer the deed to the pony ranch to myself immediatly!" He says in his usual monotone and without the least bit of surprise. Nor does he offer even a tiny lick of explanation as to why he wants to own a pony ranch. "I would be interested in seeing the collated results of your search when you are completed. Where did the ranch and the autoclave come from?" Catechism stares at Cyclonus. Okay, so he's stealing Astrotrain's booze, and he wants a pony ranch. Is he... is he feeling okay? Her head tilts to one side. Perhaps Cyclonus just wants to see that she'll obey orders without questioning them. Yeah. She pulls out a datapad and tap-tap-taps at it, putting the requisition in to transfer the deed to Cyclonus, and replies, "The ranch came from Brand, sir. He was apparently..." She peers at her notes. "trampled to death by Ig-Yaks. The autoclave belonged to Hawker. Used to be one of our engineers, got caught up in some shady deals, and... I'm not sure who murdered him, actually. He wasn't very well-liked." Cyclonus nods slightly. "Make sure the pony ranch transfer is done fully legal. I will have to go into the office for the state in question and sign it, I imagine." His voice adds this lightly and then he settles back into his chair and looks back at Catechism as though daring her to argue with him. "I remember Brand." He says. "Isn't he the one who wanted rebuilt into a flaming horse aniform? I have never seen a more miserable individual because he had wings." Catechism is swiftly developing a headache. Cyclonus seriously wants a legal pony ranch? Okay. So she remembers Cyclonus doing things legally before, like when he became a public offical on Nepsa so that he could sucker some Autobots out of some artifacts, but what is he doing to do a with a pony ranch? And then, Catechism realises: she doesn't want to know. She's curious, but she's not that curious. "Montana." Where an AWOL Decepticon can get away with pony ranching. "I suppose so, sir." Cyclonus wants a fully legal pony ranch. What is so strange about that? Perhaps he has it in his mind to relax and enjoy the warm comforts of big sky country and raise some livestock? While wearing a cowboy hat (cut, of course, to fit his horns) and a six shooter? Okay, so it's not really -THAT- possible. But he must have something in mind. "Is there anything else that you needed from me today?" He inquires of her. Catechism says slowly, "So all this /stuff/ I'm finding that the Empire owns while I'm looking to find AWOL Decepticons and deserters, do I just tell MSE to go pick it up?" Cyclonus considers thoughtfully. "Actually." He says, giving her a look. Oh-oh. This is going to be a good one. "I reviewed your records last night from while you were Air Commander. Your record for logistics is horrible." He lets that sink in. "I want you to collate all of these items . . . and assign them to users in the Empire where they will prove the most use. Consider it a . . . logistical challenge." Catechism winces. Fleet! This is Fleet's fault! And Redshift's. They were her seconds in command! They're supposed to handle the boring parts! She was just supposed to plan things and beat up Autobots! Catechism asks, perfectly deadpan, "If I find any other pony ranches, should I let you know, or is one enough, sir?" Cyclonus gives Catechism a very stern look and his voice is equally deadpan. "Any other pony ranches that you find are to be immediatly transferred, legally, into my own ownership. Along with any Apaloosa Horses. You may relocate them to the pony ranch if you find them. Furthermore, I want you to keep me appraised of your progress." Catechism wants very much to break out into nervous laughter, but she keeps a lid on it. She mumbles, "Right, sir." Now, to figure out who needs a... bolo tie? She scratches the back of her cone and mentally notes down that she's keeping all the buckets she finds. With a salute, Catechism concludes, "Thank you for your time, sir. I'm going to be system-hopping to gather all these things, but I'll file my flight plan for you." That said, she moves to get to it. Cyclonus nods. "Very well." He says, and says nothing else while Catechism exits. This seems to have been all that he has in mind. Decepticon Message: 2/130 Posted Author Recycling Mon Jul 27 Catechism ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Catechism appears, standing in one of the Empire's dusty old storerooms, surrounded by stacking dolls, knife sharpeners, megaphones, mysterious jars of alien embryos, and folded up tents. She explains, "I have been tasked with, uh... finding the Empire's old junk and assigning it to new uses. Also random properties that the Empire has inherited, such as a... chocolate factory. If you are aware of an Imperial property that could be better reassigned, please let me know. If there is something you could use that I find, such as... a green tambourine, drop me a line. Swindle, I am setting aside any bolo ties that I find for you." OOC: Want to be given random junk by Catechism? Want to go look at strange and random properties in space with Catechism? Drop me a line. I'm working on upgrade RP for the Logistics skill (in the most implausible way possible, really). :)